


The Lost Art of Hyperbole

by CrlkSeasons



Series: Prompt/Challenge Stories [10]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:45:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7510639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrlkSeasons/pseuds/CrlkSeasons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is there no beauty in truth?<br/>A little light entertainment set in the second half of season five.<br/>Written for Photogirl1890 who gave me a fun title to work with for the story exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Art of Hyperbole

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Photogirl1890](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Photogirl1890/gifts).



The airy pavilions nestled artfully between green fields and softly scented gardens seemed to promise a people who valued esthetics. Instead, Davia Four was home to one of the most bureaucratic races of number counters that Voyager had the misfortune to meet in the Delta Quadrant. 

On Davia red tape was elevated to an art form. From what Tom could tell, he and Harry had made it to the waiting room of the waiting room for appointments with the minister. As ranking officer B’Elanna merited a private consultation with Secretary Tolg in his inner office. Tom and Harry had been sitting with Undersecretary Ulfar in the antechamber for over two hours. 

The marble-like surface of the seating offered little comfort. “You’d think they’d at least put cushions on these benches,” Tom whispered to Harry. 

“And a back rest,” Harry whispered in reply. 

“This place is rapidly losing the last of its charm. To think that I wondered where the leprechauns were when we first arrived!”

“What are leprechauns?”

“Never mind. I always forget that you skipped over the classics and went straight to Flotter.”

“What’s wrong with Flotter?”

“For one thing, he looks worse than a constipated Bolian.”

“So he’s ugly. Every Flotter story includes a problem for you to solve. My parents thought the series was very educational.”

“That’s my point. It’s ‘educational’, a lesson a day. When I was a kid, if I had to solve problems I preferred to do it hunting for pirate treasure.” 

Undersecretary Ulfar paid no attention to the specifics of Tom and Harry’s conversation. All he cared about was that his pendant held a steady green while they talked. Davians placed a high value on truth. Every Davian wore a truth pendant around his or her neck. 

Earlier, Harry had tried to start a conversation with Ulfar by praising an oddly unattractive statue. The undersecretary’s pendant turned sickly yellow and he almost had a fit. Tom had to talk fast to explain that in some cultures it is considered polite for a guest to compliment their host. It held enough truth for the pendant to revert to green. 

That was their only excitement while waiting for B’Elanna to finish up with Tolg. Normally a consultation this long meant that progress was being made. Tom had his doubts. 

His suspicions were confirmed when B’Elanna returned to the antechamber with Secretary Tolg. She appeared to smile politely at the secretary. Tom wasn’t fooled. He recognized the expression on her face. It was the one that said, “I would like to rip your head off but the Captain told me to remember that I am a Starfleet officer.” 

Tolg bowed perfunctorily, dismissing B’Elanna from further notice. Then he beckoned to the undersecretary. Still seething, B’Elanna walked over to Tom and Harry while Ulfar hurried over to Tolg for instructions. 

Tom and Harry stood when she reached them and formed a circle so they could talk privately. “I take it that negotiations didn’t go well,” Tom whispered. 

She hissed back, “We didn’t even get to the negotiations. Before we can see the minister, I have to prove to that blockhead that we are important enough to be granted an audience.”

Harry waited until the designated blockhead disappeared into his office before asking, “How are you supposed to do that?” 

“According to what we were told about local protocol, my rank should be enough to get us an appointment. Secretary Tolg is too impressed with his own importance to see it that way.”

Undersecretary Ulfar puffed air through his nose to attract their attention. “The secretary is very busy. He has no more time to give you today. You are welcome to wait here until you can arrange to rejoin the rest of your party.”

B’Elanna gritted her teeth and managed a tolerable version of a smile. “Captain Janeway is also very busy. I would not dream of disturbing her for such a trivial matter as the secretary’s scheduling difficulties. We will wait here.”

Ulfar missed the implied insult and titled his head to indicate his indifference to their decision to remain. 

Harry frowned. “Maybe we should contact the Captain.” 

B’Elanna shook her head. “She’s with the top brass on the other side of the planet. I’m in charge of this mission. This is my responsibility.”

Tom nodded his support. “So what are you going to do?” he asked. 

“I have to find a way to impress that petaQ.”

Tom thought for a moment. “What exactly happened in there? What did you talk about?”

“I tried telling him about the accomplishments of the Federation and the various cultures in the Alpha Quadrant. The only spark of interest I got was when I mentioned the Ferengi’s obsession with latinum. What he really wants are examples of personal achievement.”

“Did you tell them that I played the clarinet?” Harry asked. 

B’Elanna smiled. “Sorry, Harry. It didn’t help.”

“How about our battles with the Borg?” Tom suggested.

“According to Secretary Tolg, since the Borg are still a power in the quadrant, our victories weren’t significant.”

Tom tried again. “How about the Kazon?”

“Apparently ‘disorganized scum of little value’.” 

“The Vidiians?”

“They’re still around.”

“The Hirogen,” Harry suggested. 

“Them too.”

Tom shook his head, “Talk about a tough audience. It’s a shame you couldn’t tell him how Captain Proton took out Satan’s Robot.”

“And the Twin Mistresses of Evil,” Harry added. 

“Come on you two,” B’Elanna admonished them, “this is serious.”

Before Harry could apologize, Tom tapped B’Elanna on the arm to draw her attention to the undersecretary’s pendant. “It’s green,” he mouthed. 

“So?”

“It stayed green even when Harry and I started talking about Proton.”

“It did?” Harry was surprised.

“Uh huh.” Tom confirmed.

“That doesn’t make sense. It turned yellow the minute I pretended to like that statue,” Harry reminded him. 

B’Elanna added, “When I was talking with Tolg, he told me that his pendant would turn yellow if I deviated from the truth in any way. Harry’s right. It doesn’t make sense. Proton is a character in a holoprogram. He isn’t real.”

“I know,” Tom agreed. “But it gives me an idea. I think we may have found a menace that Tolg can’t dismiss so easily. Let me try an experiment.” He raised his voice so that the undersecretary could hear him clearly. “Remember that battle with Chaotica, Harry? Even with his vast army, Dr. Chaotica didn’t stand a chance against Captain Proton. Almost single-handedly Proton defeated Chaotica and saved Earth.”

The pendant held its green color. The undersecretary gasped and hurried into Secretary Tolg’s office. 

B’Elanna turned to Tom and demanded, “What was that about?”

“Don’t you see? They’ve never heard of Chaotica. To them that means Proton’s victory was a decisive one. I know Proton is only a character in a story. But in the stories he stands for something real - putting himself on the line to save people in danger. So the pendant showed that what I said about him was true.” Tom half-shrugged. “At least true to me.” 

“A world within a story can be true to itself,” Harry added in a flash of inspiration.

“Exactly!”

B’Elanna wasn’t convinced. “I still don’t get it.”

Tom took her hand and sat with her on the bench. “Look, you’ve told me that Klingons always exaggerate and trade tall tales with fellow warriors.”

“That’s right. I always hated that.”

“But they don’t make stuff up out of nothing.”

“It would be dishonorable,” B’Elanna was beginning to catch on. “Warriors exaggerate, but there has to be a real victory behind their bragging.”

“When there’s truth at the heart of a story the pendant stays green.”

Secretary Tolg returned with Undersecretary Ulfar not far behind. “Ulfar informs me of a great hero among your people. Who is this Captain Proton?”

Tom stood up, “I am Proton.”

“How can this be? You do not lead the mission.”

Harry stepped in to help. “It is a common practice among our people to take breaks from the heavy demands of duty. Ensign Paris does not always use the name ‘Captain Proton’.”

“Incredible! You actually defeated this Chaotica?”

Tom answered Tolg confidently, “I saw him die!” He added in a whisper to B’Elanna, “At least he died in chapter eighteen. He came back after that.”

Tom needn’t have worried about keeping his voice down. The secretary had already switched his attention to Harry, “You are a hero too?”

Harry chose his words carefully. “I am known as Buster Kincaid. I work at Captain Proton’s side.” Then he stood straighter and added, “Although I am his best friend, the day will come when I’ll command a ship of my own.”

That satisfied Tolg and his pendant. He addressed B’Elanna next, “You are the leader. What do you have to say about Captain Proton?”

B’Elanna felt cornered. She couldn’t claim that she took part in Tom’s adventures. If she told Tolg what she thought of Proton, she’d hurt Tom’s feelings. “Captain Proton is a different kind of hero.”

Tolg and Ulfar’s pendants flickered. 

Seeing their advantage slip away, B’Elanna thought about what Tom said about the truth within the story. Then she knew what to say. She stared directly at Tom, holding his eyes with her own. “If a hero is someone who puts his life in danger for others, if he risks everything he has in order to save a world, then yes, Ensign Paris, by his own or any other name, is a hero.” 

Both pendants held a solid green. 

Tom’s face shone with pride at B’Elanna’s words. 

“But what part do you play in his adventures?” Tolg insisted. 

B’Elanna imperiously waved off the question. “I prefer to operate on a larger stage.”

Tolg’s eyes widened. “You must be a queen among your people.”

This time Tom jumped in, “Yes, she is. To me she is a queen. She is magnificent. She is braver, smarter and more beautiful than any queen.”

B’Elanna blushed a deep bronze. She glared at Tolg to hide her embarrassment. 

Tom smiled warmly at the flash of B’Elanna’s eyes and the radiance of her skin. It made her look even more regal. 

Tolg retreated to his office and returned almost immediately. “My apologies for the delay. I will escort you to the minister myself. This way, Your Majesty.” 

”I prefer to be called ‘Lieutenant Torres’.”

“Of course.”

“My associates will accompany me,” B’Elanna announced loftily. 

“As you wish.”

Tom started to follow B’Elanna, but Harry tugged at his sleeve. “Do you think B’Elanna will be okay? You know she doesn’t like these made-up stories.”

“Don’t worry. Skill with hyperbole may have disappeared on Earth. On Qo’noS it’s high art. B’Elanna just has to remember the stories she’s heard from her Klingon relatives. She’ll be fine.”

B’Elanna stopped when she realized that Tom and Harry weren’t following her. “Mr. Paris! Mr. Kim!” 

“Come on, Harry,” Tom said. “The queen commands.”

“I bet she makes you write up the mission report for this,” Harry warned him.

Tom laughed, “Not a problem. I’ll just take all the fun out of what happened. That will give me a perfect, by-the-book Starfleet report.”

“As long as she doesn’t get so used to being a queen that she starts calling herself Arachnia and makes me feed her spiders,” Harry grumbled. 

“I thought you liked spiders.”

“You’re the one who likes spiders.”

Tom raised his eyebrows. “So, what if I change the spiders to snakes when we get back?” he offered. “’Serpentia, Queen of the Snake People’ has a ring to it.”

”No! Definitely not.”

“How about bats?”

“Tom!”

The rest of their conversation was lost in the soft breezes that wafted through the pillars that lined the walkway. 

A pink bunny hopped along behind them. Its floppy ears and cute, twitchy nose drew no response from the secretary. However the Davian official in charge of pink bunnies dutifully recorded the direction and speed of the rabbit’s progress.


End file.
